Page 50 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

He had two months for the overhaul.

Mac was too entrenched with the locals, but Jameson didn’t need to make friends here. He needed to run an efficient business. He could take the heat from Mac and transform the restaurant without worrying about being nice. He had nothing to prove. Who cares if they thought he was an asshole? They could grumble and whine about the changes, but in the long run, when Mac returned, he’d be making a ton more money and inherit a tightly run operation.

The challenge made the blood in his veins warm and his heart beat faster. It would be a wonderful lesson for him, too, and a way to figure out if he actually would like to run his own place. He’d help Mac out, and finally decide about his own future. A win/win with no casualties.

Jameson closed the door to the back office—a small drafty space with the basics, and whipped out his own laptop. He quickly made a list of top priorities to focus on during the next sixty days, checking the calendar to create a schedule that was ambitious but doable.

His finger tapped on the weekend of the 22nd which was blocked off in bright red.

Animal Welfare Fur Gala.

A frown creased his brow. How could Mac agree to such an event during the busiest weekend of the year? The restaurantwould be blocked out for an entire day for prep, missing out on the lunch and dinner crowd.

He remembered the brief conversation with his cousin, and being told to give them whatever they needed.

For free.

A shudder shook through his body at the thought. He had no doubt Mac was being taken advantage of in the name of some unknown dogs. Sure, he believed animals should be safe and well-treated, but spring or summer would be a better time to push that agenda. Besides, how could he welcome dogs into the restaurant? It made no sense. He had the outdoor patio with heaters but what if it rained and they got cold? They’d trot inside with their shedding fur and bad breath and muddy paws into a place he was trying to transform.

No. He’d need to cancel it. He was sure the rescue organization would understand due to the circumstances of Mac leaving. The firehouse would be more appropriate, and he’d even offer to help with some of the food catering. Just as long as they didn’t spend precious hours at Vintage drinking free booze and eating on his cousin’s dime.

Satisfied with his decision, Jameson picked up his phone to break the news immediately.

Chapter Two

“Devon, the Fur Gala is cancelled.”

She blinked at Jordan’s shriek blasting into her ear and quickly switched to speaker mode since the shop was empty. “Wait, what do you mean? You said it was moving forward with Mac’s cousin.”

“That’s what I thought, but I got a call from the shelter—Judith is frantic because she was told the dates wouldn’t work any longer and Jameson suggested the event be moved to the fire hall.”

“Wait—what? In two weeks? Invites have already gone out! Does Mac know about this?”

A hard breath huffed over the line. “No. Judith called him but the man was stressed because his sister ended up at the hospital and is now on bedrest. Judith can’t bother him now when he put his cousin in charge. Oh, it gets worse.”

Devon stared at the phone wide-eyed. “What else?”

“Judith has Covid. So basically, she’s quarantined for the week and her staff has to deal with the fallout, and they have no time. It all blew up and I feel terrible. I want to help but I have a bunch of holiday weddings and fittings. Ugh, what is wrong with this guy? Doesn’t he understand how important this gala is to the shelter?”

Devon couldn’t help the amusement leaking through her voice. “You said he was hot and wanted to set me up.”

“Not anymore! He’s a grinch and shouldn’t be here. What are we going to do?”

Devon clicked through the possible scenarios with the ease of an expert. As a florist who’d dealt with endless weddings, she’d seen hundreds of emergencies and learned to keep coolin hot-spot situations. Working with demanding brides and grooms trained her for excellent customer service and dealing with various challenging scenarios. “I’ll talk to him. I meant to stop by but things got busy. Maybe if I explain the situation, he’ll be reasonable. After all, he doesn’t know the community here. I’m sure I can straighten it out.”

“You are the best! Thanks, Devon, let me know what happens.”

Devon smiled. Her friend had rescued three cats from the shelter and was passionate about the organization. Beach towns were notoriously hard to place pets and too many horror stories had occurred with tourists dumping their animals and fleeing. “You got it. I’ll head over there now and take a lunch break.”

Kissing noises came back at her. Devon laughed and hung up. It took her a few minutes to close up and put a sign on the door, then she headed out. The wind whipped at her long hair, the salty scent filling her nostrils. She hurried to her car even as she admired the roar of the ocean’s fury crashing over the sand. Foamy tips of the waves hurled high and choppy under a gray cloudless sky. Even though she’d lived here for years, Devon always appreciated the thrill of living by the beach in a close community who cared about one another. She loved the hustle and bustle of the crowds during summer season for the raw energy and newness they brought in, but her favorite month was always December. Bed and breakfasts glowed with holiday lights, cafes created unique menus and drinks with cinnamon and pumpkin to warm the belly, and a low hum of excitement seemed to fill the air. Once January came, the place shut down, like flowering plants closed their blooms tight and slept. It was a time Devon loved to reflect on the past year, go inward, and enjoy that final blast of holiday gathering before hibernation.

Pumping up the heat, she drove to the Physick Estate, the famous Victorian house museum. The historical mansion wasset near the tennis courts, courting a steady crowd throughout the year. Vintage was tucked behind the mansion, a quirky restaurant with flair and charm both tourists and locals loved. The long outdoor patio held large heaters to take advantage of milder evenings. Devon parked near the tennis courts and walked in, noting the patio was empty for the lunch crowd, but the main room was bustling.

She poked her head in and caught Trisha’s eye, who immediately came over. “Hi, Dev.” The young brunette was a college student known for her positive energy and sweet manner. Mac was flexible with her shifts due to her changing schedule, and Trish had been working at Vintage for the past two years. Today, Dev noticed there was a definite lack of bounce in her step and her gaze. “Can I get you a table? Take-out?”

Dev shook her head. “I want to see Mac’s cousin. Jameson, right? Is he here?”

Trisha’s lips pulled down. Devon didn’t remember her ever making that dour expression. “Yeah, he’s here. In the office.”

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